


Dreaming about the things we could be

by tonysta_k



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Self Confidence Issues, Self Image Issues, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-19 00:53:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11302368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonysta_k/pseuds/tonysta_k
Summary: The light is still off and there’s no clear sign of Wade being present other than the fact the window’s open, the wind blowing the curtains frantically as it brings in a harsh coldness. “Wade?” Peter asks.A suit-clad hand pops up from behind the side of the bed that’s by the window. In a low, raspy voice, comes the reply of “Down here.”Or in which Wade goes to Peter's whilst something's on his mind, and Peter's determined to find out what's bothering his boyfriend so much.





	Dreaming about the things we could be

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I've never written for this pairing or for Marvel at all, and I'm relatively new to both. But I'm really excited to write more fics and develop my writing ~
> 
> I'm sorry if anything seems out of character or not right, please let me know if there is!
> 
> Oh also, a huge shoutout to saruma_aki for being so kind and friendly, as well as informing me about canon things that happen in the comics then I wasn't aware of!! Please go check out their work of this pair and other Marvel works, you won't regret it!

There’s very little light in the bathroom as Peter splashes his face with cold water, the only light coming from the light at the top of the mirror. He sighs and puts his hand on the side of the sink, supporting his stance. There’s sweat rolling down his back and he’s trying to even out his breathing, focusing on that instead of the vivid images that are still flashing in his head. There’s a sudden _thump_ from his bedroom, and Peter’s whole body stiffens momentarily before he realises it’s probably Wade. Peter uses a towel to dry his face, turns the light off, and walks to his room.

The light is still off and there’s no clear sign of Wade being present other than the fact the window’s open, the wind blowing the curtains frantically as it brings in a harsh coldness. “Wade?” Peter asks.

A suit-clad hand pops up from behind the side of the bed that’s by the window. In a low, raspy voice, comes the reply of “Down here.”

Concerned and curious, Peter flicks the light on and makes his way over to his boyfriend. He shuts the window, having only kept it open because he knows Wade all too well - he’ll come over at random times, preferably through the window, without giving Peter notice. There have been many times that Peter’s woken up with Wade sleeping next to him when he wasn’t there before, or waking up to find Wade climbing through the window before flopping down on the bed.

“Want a hand up?” Peter offers, sticking his hand out only to have it declined. He watches as Wade pushes himself up before falling onto the bed with an ‘oof’.

The alarm clock on the bedside table reads ‘3:00 AM’, putting Peter’s mind at rest; he can get some more sleep before he needs to get up for work.

“Do you want something to drink?” Peter asks.

Wade, who’s spread out on the bed, his mask and suit still on, shakes his head. “I’m good, baby boy.” He sits up and takes off his shoes, his feet now sporting his pink and gold unicorn socks.

Peter smiles at the socks and shakes his head. “All right. You taking off your suit or?”

“Nope,” is the short reply Wade gives him, the ‘P’ popping. He stands up and gets into the bed, facing Peter. He looks up at Peter and pats the space behind him, “Come on, I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.”

With a fond role of his eyes, Peter turns the light off and gets into bed. “What made you come over?” He asks, lying behind Wade, their bodies pressed together. “Busy night?”

Wade moves his hand to hold Peter’s, resting them together on his hip. “Not really.”

Even though his spidey-sense helps him in battle, it doesn’t stop Peter from being oblivious to things that don’t involve danger. However, it’s different with Wade. Sure, there are times where Peter won’t pick up on clues and hints no matter how obvious they truly are, but right now, with Wade giving him so many short answers and his lack of humour and playfulness, Peter knows something’s up. “Are you going to tell me why you’re here, then?”

There’s a short silence before Wade speaks, probably trying to ignore the voices in his head. “Does it matter?”

“It matters to me,” Peter points out. He uses his free hand to trace shapes over Wade’s back. “But I’m not going to force you,” he adds, knowing all too well that trying to force Wade to speak what’s on his mind is as pointless as trying to get a fish to survive without water.

There’s a sigh from Wade and although Peter can’t see it, he closes his eyes whilst doing so. “I rather sleep, if it’s all the same to you.”

There’s a part of Peter telling him to protest and to try and coax Wade into speaking, because if Wade was just stopping in because he felt like it or because he was already in the area, Wade would also be more talkative and touchy-feely. But he isn’t - he’s speaking to Peter with closed answers and won’t even look at him (although that could be down to the fact he enjoys being the little spoon). “Okay,” Peter ends up saying. “Goodnight.” He nuzzles into Wade’s shoulder, fighting the instinct to tell Wade he can wake Peter up if needs be, because no matter how many times Peter’s told him he can, Wade won’t.

___

Peter’s alarm goes off and wakes the two men. Peter sits up slowly and rubs his hair, whereas Wade doesn’t move, only putting his hand over his ear. His mask is laying on the bedside table, Peter concluding that it must have gotten too sweaty with it on.

Once out of bed, Peter puts his phone on charge. “I’m going to shower,” he announces, his arms up in the air as he stretches. “You joining me?”

Wade simply shakes his head, proving to Peter that whatever was wrong last night, is still an issue.

“Are you sure?” Peter asks, growing more and more concerned about Wade’s out of character behaviour. He tries persuading him, “Are you really going to pass on the chance on seeing my ass?”

Although Wade’s chuckle is small and barely audible, it’s the best thing Peter’s heard since his arrival last night. “Suppose I can’t pass up on that offer.”

The shower doesn’t last long, but Wade’s actions (or lack of) worry Peter. Every time they’ve shared a shower, it’s either led to attempted sex (it never works out - Peter always ends with shampoo in his eye, or Wade will make some crude joke and ruin the mood) or Wade styling Peter’s hair with shampoo. But this time there’s nothing, barely even any hands on waist or making out. Peter doesn’t know what’s going on with Wade, but he vows to find out.

Breakfast is buttered toast for Peter, Wade opting to eat the two day leftover pizza from the fridge. Wade’s mask is back on, although it’s rolled up to under his nose so he can eat.

“Does that even taste good?” Peter asks, sat opposite Wade at the kitchen island. “It’s not fresh.”

Wade shrugs. “What’s gonna do? Kill me?” He laughs dryly.

Peter frowns, “Wade, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, so there’s nothing to tell,” Wade insists, with a mouthful of pizza.

“Fine,” Peter says, although he knows there is something wrong, and there’s no way that he’s going to drop this. But he does change the conversation topic. “Are you doing much today?”

“Fight but not kill, maybe grab some tacos,” Wade lists, then mumbling something that Peter misses.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” Wade asks, acting as if he didn’t just mumble something.

Peter arches his eyebrows. “Nothing,” he tells him, deciding not to press any more. He checks his watch and sees that he needs to get going soon. He wolfs down the remaining toast and puts the plate in the sink. “Are you coming back here tonight?” He asks whilst slipping a pair of shoes on in the hallway.

“Uh, maybe,” Wade answers, getting up to put his plate in the sink. He makes his way into the hallway, pulling his mask back over his lower face.

Peter shrugs his coat on and grabs his bag from the coat stand. “All right, well you know where the window is if you decide to come over,” he smiles, disappointed when he doesn’t get a laugh from Wade.

Instead, Wade just hums, stood with his arms crossed over his chest in a somewhat defensive manner. “Shouldn’t you get going? You don’t want to be late.”

“You’re right,” Peter says with an almost defeated sigh. He walks to Wade and goes on his tiptoes to press a lip to his masked lips, only for Wade to dodge his lips and press a kiss to Peter’s head. It stirs something wrong in Peter but he lets it be. He’ll get to the bottom of it eventually.

___

Peter returns home after a long day and calls out to Wade, only to get no answer. Peter hangs up his coat before walking into the lounge, gasping at the scene that’s in front of him. There’s glass on the floor and a couple of picture frames on the ground in the middle of it all. At first Peter worries there’s been a break in, but then he looks around to see that nothing else has been touched, only the picture frames.

He carefully walks to them, trying not to crush any glass as he does so. He picks the picture frames up - three altogher. All three of them are of him and Wade - one from their first date, one from when Peter took Wade to meet aunt May, and one from the County fair a few months back. Peter frowns and sits down with the picture, trying to work out what happened.

He knows he can be sure that this is Wade’s doing, but he doesn’t understand the cause. They haven’t fought lately and they’ve barely stayed in touch since Peter leaving for work this morning. Peter examines the pictures closer and realises two things. Firstly, Wade’s mask is off. Secondly, they’re either in public or with other people. Peter’s stomach flips and he thinks he’s just solved why the picture frames have been smashed, and the cause of Wade’s deflated mood.

___

Like Peter’s bedroom window, Wade leaves his open for the same reason - so Peter can come and go as he pleases. Peter climbs through the window and looks around out of habit. He sees a picture frame has been turned down on Wade’s shelf and when Peter picks it up to look at it, his suspicion is confirmed. It’s one of him and Wade.

“Wade,” Peter calls out as he walks into the lounge. “Are you in?”

“In the kitchen,” comes Wade’s response. “Do you want food?”

“What’s on offer?” Peter asks, walking into the kitchen. He stands next to Wade and puts his hand on Wade’s lower back.

“Mac and cheese,” Wade answers. “Grab a plate if you want some.”

Peter does just that, not having eaten since his lunch break a couple of hours ago. He watches Wade cook and takes small sips of a glass of water, trying to work out when’s a good time to bring up what he’s concluded to.

“Was work good?” Wade asks, bringing Peter out of his thoughts.

Peter traces one of the colourful dots of the glasses’ design. “It was all right, new deadlines to meet and more research to do, but what’s new?”

Wade hums in response, getting a plate and starting to pile it with the cheesy pasta. “How much do you want?”

“That’s enough,” Peter tells him after the third scoop. “Table or couch?” He asks in reference to where they’re going to sit.

“You pick.”

Peter sits at the table, deciding it’s easier to talk about things when you’re opposite someone and are able to read their body language rather than when you’re next to them. He waits for Wade to sit down before starting to eat.

“How was your day?” Peter asks him after a few minutes, trying to ease into conversation and naturally bring up Wade’s off mood instead of just blurting out his suspicions.

“Fine,” Wade says, eating a forkful of pasta. “Yours?”

Peter frowns slightly, eyebrows furrowing. “You’ve already asked.”

“Have I? How silly of me.”

They eat in silence for a while before Peter can’t stand it anymore, needing to bring up why he came here. “Why did you smash the pictures of us up?” He notices Wade stiffen, as if he didn’t think Peter would bring it up. “And I saw the one in your bedroom was turned down.”

“Is it? Didn’t notice,” Wade says and shovels food into his mouth.

As frustrated as this is now making Peter, he doesn’t raise his voice or shout, neither does he start cussing. “What’s going on? You haven’t been yourself since last night.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Wade insists, then stabbing his fork into his pasta.

“It does matter though, Wade. Please, just tell me,” Peter pleads, trying to get Wade to admit what’s wrong instead of having the embarrassment of Peter admit he knows what’s wrong.

“You deserve better than me, all right?” Wade asks, looking at Peter. “You deserve someone who’s not so self conscious, someone who won’t get stared at as they walk down the street or walk into a shop, someone who leaves the house without a high anxiety. Someone who doesn’t make old ladies scream and kids run away from them. You deserve someone who’s good looking and has better mental health and isn’t so emotionally vulnerable that they have to build walls constantly,” he continues, voice becoming weaker with every few words that leave his mouth. “You. Deserve. Better.”

“I don’t want anyone else,” Peter tells him. He slides his hand over to hold Wade’s, glad when Wade grasps it tightly instead of moving away. “I get that you’re self conscious and that you have issues but hell, who isn’t self conscious? Who doesn’t have issues?” He asks as Wade looks away from him. “Sure I could go with someone else, but I don’t want to. I don’t want anyone else other than you.”

“But if you did-”

“But I don’t,” Peter cuts in. “I have you, and I love you and I’m here for you, okay? I am always here, don’t forget that.”

“Sometimes I don’t think you mean it,” Wade admits, finally looking back at Peter. “You say you’re here for me, but would you really be there for me if I turned up in your bedroom, two in the morning, emotionally and mentally fucked?”

“Of course I would!” Peter exclaims. He’s not angry at Wade - far from it, actually. If anything, he’s angry at himself for not realising how much reassurance his boyfriend needs. “I’m here for you regardless of the time, situation, your emotional or mental state.” He gives Wade a small smile, “Always.”

Wade uses his unoccupied hand to wipe his eye. “Okay,” he says, swallowing thickly. “Thank you. And the same to you, Petey.”

Peter smiles at the return of the pet name. “It’s my pleasure.”

___

That night, Peter stays awake longer than Wade. The older man is asleep with his legs entangled with Peter’s and his face next to his. Wade’s mask isn’t on tonight, and Peter takes the opportunity to look at all his features. He knows there’s more attractive people than Wade - but there’s more attractive people than Peter, than celebrities, than beauty queens. No matter what you look like, someone is always smarter or more attractive or better at something. But regardless of this - the fact that there’s more attractive people than Wade -, Peter really does find him attractive. Admittedly, the scars freaked Peter out at first, but now he sees them as a part of Wade, and Peter loves and wants every single part of Wade, scars included.

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully that made sense, I'm pretty tired and a little out of it right now, as well as not proofreading this and writing it differently to how I planned it.
> 
> But I hope you enjoyed, and I'd love to know what you think!


End file.
